She Dances
by Summer M
Summary: Hunter loved to watched her dance. A thoughtful story about isolation and companionship. Hunter/Survivor friendship.
1. She Dances

Author's Notes: This is all I remember from falling asleep with my Ipod on. I thought it made a nice story, and if anyone likes it, I may try to add a few more chapters.

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_She Dances_

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She danced around the room, moving her body and waving her arms like a ballerina she barely remembers. Her eyes were closed, and she was lost in her own little world of make-believe, music blaring loud from the ear-buds in her ears.

Hunter could not tear his eyes away from her, they were glued to her hips but he tried to look away to give her more privacy, however his eyes kept peeking back to her. He was rewarded when her shirt rode an inch high and he was extremely pleased to see that small patch of soft skin around her thin stomach. Those rare glimpses of skin were always appealing to look at.

Rarely, Hunter had got to see any parts of her body other than her face. The human was always completely bundled up in clothes.

That small patch of skin was so scrumptious to look at. He greedily ate up the next time it shown when she lifted her arms high up and back down in beat with the strange music.

She wore a long-sleeved shirt with a high collar. Long-sleeved gloves that ended halfway up her arm. Loose jeans with worker's boots were what she always wore. She mentioned to him once that she did not want to catch a cold with the infection going around, and it would lower her chances of fighting it.

He could not blame her. Travelling with him must have upped her defense.

He tried once to touch her nose with his bare hand, out of spite to see what she would do. She reacted violently, throwing herself back and away from him. She immediately left the room to disinfect her face from his touch. He followed after her, watching her search the next room frantically for that purifying gel she kept in her bag. She had loads of that stinky stuff.

He would have thought this an overreaction to his touch, but the infection was airborne and was able to transfer through body fluids. She was immune to the airborne so far, but didn't know about the latter.

And he was infected.

The other humans called him a Hunter, a smart infected zombie – he still had his upper brain workings. Something went wrong when he mutated from the virus. She was an airborne immune to the infection, and maybe to the body fluids too. A human he had taken up protecting. In this zombie apocalypse, all they had were each other for company and they were not going to complain.

For the last few days, they were stuck in a wooden cabin, off the side of a large highway. It was raining hard and getting colder as autumn was setting in.

He briefly wondered if they should stay here for the winter, but quickly scraped that idea. He hated staying in one place for too long, but the girl didn't. He could see the signs. There were areas in the room where she would personalize it, adding her own touch to everything.

They had to stay on the move, away from hordes of other infected zombies. They were brain-dead and hungry for flesh. There were a small amount of smart zombies like him, that wandered for their next meal; human flesh. He had to protect the girl from them. Signs of life always attracted them. Smoke from the fires, noises, and smells; anything that looked and acted like fresh meat were a target.

He did hunger for fresh meat too, but he substituted that with animals, whatever he could catch. The humans didn't call him the Hunter for nothing. If he couldn't find the animals, he would stomach the human food he provided the girl with. Canned foods from the abandoned stores and markets were all he could scrunch in this day and age.

Which reminded him of checking their food supply-

His mouth fell open when she pulled off the long gloves from her hands, the dancing seem to be making her perspire. He could smell the salt and heat in the air. The room was warm because he had started up the fireplace not long ago. That had to be the only reason she would take those off.

He swallowed hard. He never had seen her hands before. She always had those damn gloves on. He suddenly felt embarrassed that her bare hands made him happier than the patches of skin from her stomach and those delicious dances.

He knew he should not be having these type of feelings. He should have never found that bloody working Ipod. That damn thing was the reason all this started. He had liked her well enough before. He did not desire to see parts of her body at all. Not until she closed her eyes every damn time and swung that skinny malnourished body of hers.

And to think, all he wanted was a pet to amuse himself with, like a toy. Something to occupy his time until he was bored and felt like eating it. It was like playing with his food.

He had found the girl hiding away in a clothing shop. The place was abandoned and ransacked. The clothes were all over the place, walls with grime and the floor was littered with garbage.

He was only there to look for another hoodie to hide his face. His last one was ripped clean off by another infected zombie.

The damn human side of his wanted to keep the girl longer and longer, until the thought of hurting her caused him to feel something weird. Something he did not like feeling. His human side supplied him with the name of that feeling.

Guilt.

He hated that feeling. And how he got it every time he thought something wrong about the girl. Every time he thought of leaving her, eating her, or the worse off, making her cry.

And he did that regularly. Most often, it was because of his callousness, or not assessing the situation faster.

One example was an hour ago. It had been raining, little rumbles of thunder overhead. Only one great hit of thunder that sounded much like a tank, had the brat scrambling to him and hugging his middle in fear. Out of surprise, he had screeched loud and scared the girl into crying hysterically.

That stupid guilt feeling had skyrocketed after that. He didn't know how to console her, and he knew she didn't like to be touched. So he sat there, his presence the only comfort he could provide.

The only real comfort they both could provide was the unspoken promise not to leave the other. Loneliness was the true fear. Being isolated and on your own was scarier than any raging zombies could provide.

So Hunter told himself that he was going keep her for one more day.

He thought that every night, and continued to for the next how many days they were to stay alive in this zombie apocalypse.

Just one more night.

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Thanks for reading and please review.

Summer


	2. Food Supply

Decided to add more chapters!

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Chapter 2

_Food Supply_

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Hunter needed to feed his human soon.

He checked the cupboards and noted the amount of food they had left. He counted the cans and the dried packaged goods that he could see. The cupboards were barely holding up, and the screws were pretty rusty. It gave an uncomfortable squeak as he opened the cabinet doors fully.

One, two, three … four. He counted four cans, one tomato, and two peas. The last can was some unknown soup ingredient with the label halfway peeled off.

Hunter noted that he truly had to go out and find more, and quickly before the girl noticed.

She always mumbled to him about conserving the rest of the food. The girl could never last the night without something in her stomach. Last time he left it this low, the girl cried into the night, holding her stomach in hunger. She only ate once that day, and used water to mask her hunger. Hunter had spent almost that whole night, pushing food in her direction, but she kept refusing him. He really did not want to go through that difficult experience again.

He didn't like her idea of saving it. Food was food. She ate it; she lived. She barely consumed enough as it is because of the lack of finding unspoiled food. He had seen her eat slower and slower, as if it would make the food last longer.

The girl tried a few times to go on her own to salvage for food, but every time she attempted, Hunter would try everything to stop her. Whenever she went toward the door, Hunter would screech and rush to block her. He was like a cat; he pushed and nudged with his head to keep her from the door. He never used his hands, ever.

He did not like the door; it gave her a chance to be attacked. He couldn't face the thought of the girl not coming back, or the idea of abandonment. He knew that he would wait in this miserable house until she came back, in denial or not, he would wait for her return even if he knew in his gut that she was killed or even heart-breaking, left him. He would wait until he could wait no more.

He was loyal, but possessive and selfish. The girl … _belonged to him_.

After every silent battle with the door, the girl would always huff and tilt her head to the side. Like she was wondering about him in some degree. She only did this door thing when she was hungry.

Unfortunately for Hunter, the human was always hungry. And she was getting so much smaller. He didn't like how thin her wrists were becoming, or how much he could count the bones through her layers of clothing. He knew that was a very bad thing.

Hunter also did not like how the girl would stumble when she didn't eat. It made him feel uneasy, almost like he should be doing something to help. Which meant that he had to leave soon before the girl got any ideas in her head about 'conserving' again.

Closing the cupboard doors, and shuffling into the living room where the girl was sleeping on the worn-out couch, completely out for the night. That blasted Ipod was dropped at the corner of the couch, the battery dead. He did not realize how much he was both relieved and distraught when it had died.

He never saw the girl give that unexpected face before, when that damned machine died. She let out a small pout, her dry lips sticking out so strangely from her face. He had tilted his head to the side, confused by that expression. He watched her press buttons and shake the thing until she gave up and sat on the floor, dejected.

It had lasted about two hours. About a hundred and twenty minutes of both torture and delight, depending on the moment.

Hunter guessed he needed to find something else to occupy the girl's time. Maybe some books or some pens and paper. He slightly remembered humans looking forever at books and papers. Such long moments they would stare at them. Maybe the girl would like it.

Walking over to the couch, Hunter eyed the many blankets and pillows the girl used. It was far too many layers for his taste. He liked to sit against the wall nearest to the window, without the unnecessary blankets, and be able to keep watch on the outside world.

And besides, those blankets were uncomfortable and made it far too hot.

The girl must have had at least three thick blankets, a sheet, and five pillows all around her. He snorted at the excess covers. Why did she have to use so many? It looked like a nest that birds would build.

Birds. He wondered when was the last time he ever heard them sing.

He turned his head to find out the reason of the unnecessary nest of blankets. The fire had gone out sometime during the night without him noticing.

Crawling silently over to the fireplace, Hunter placed a few more logs into the hearth from the side. Leaning over and grabbing the matches, he began starting the small fire up. He bunched a bit of the smaller pieces of wood and lit the match. The fire began small, but was slowly forming.

Hunter noted that he was getting much better with his hands. With his thick claws, it was hard to grasp anything small. But with patience and long lessons with his human, he was getting the hang of holding small objects, such as the matches.

It was strange to think he used to do all these things without complication, before the infection hit him. Buttons, can openers, and door knobs were such a burden now. And not to mention the embarrassing moment when they both realized he had to help the girl dress and eat when she broke her arm badly a few month ago. That was an awkward week of healing for the human.

He never saw the girl go so red in the face when she also realized she couldn't go to the lavatory without assistance.

With both of their refusal of touching the other, it was a hard week for her giving in to his help, and him getting used to close contact.

He didn't like how she would clean herself so intently when he touched her. It made him feel like he was dirty and sick, which he was but it still stung. He couldn't be in the same room as her without feeling guilty.

Hunter sat next to the fireplace, waiting for it to build up. The crackling noises were comforting to listen to. It was always too quiet for him in the log cabin when the teenager slept. The girl didn't like the silence either, and always filled it by talking. She talked about her life, how she liked certain things, and how much she appreciated his help.

After a few minutes of waiting, Hunter sat back on his feet, listening to the girl's soft breaths. It was even and deep. That meant he had an few hour tops, to find food.

Hopping to his feet silently, Hunter walked swiftly and awkwardly to the front door. Grabbing the dirty piece of paper that the girl wrote the word 'out' onto, he placed it on top of the blankets near the teen.

The girl felt better when he remembered to leave it near her. He always found her hiding under a blanket, in the bathtub with the door locked when he left. Especially when he didn't leave any indication that he was coming back.

The girl would always cry unbelievably whenever he did come back, like she could not believe he had still returned each and every single time to her.

Letting out a long raspy sigh, Hunter turned around and heading towards the front door. Awkwardly opening it, and closing it as quietly as he could, he took off toward the gas station he spotted a few days ago during one of his runs. He hoped there was still food left over inside the building, even if it was scraps.

Running on all fours, Hunter kept an eye out for other infected. He didn't want anything getting even close to the log cabin. Using his developed smell and hearing, he heard a few random infected common. He scanned them out and sliced them down quickly before they could call their horde to help. Nothing bothered him more then when the common infected called the horde upon the survivors or even against the other special infected.

He also did not need more commons around his human. The girl would freak and cause a commotion, which would cause more attention to the log cabin. Especially if it caused the other special infected to come near. They were always the hardest to get rid of. They were as smart as him, sometimes, more.

All this commotion would cause him and the human girl to move again, and with trouble right behind them, they wouldn't get far with it getting so much colder.

Hearing a strong loud cry to the left of him, Hunter twisted his body quickly to the left before something shot by him. Stopping and looking toward the trees next to him, Hunter was surprised to see a bullet mark in the tree.

Wondering where did the bullet came from; Hunter glanced around and saw nothing close. He was in tall grass so he knew he was safe for the moment, but the shot did not feel like it was aimed, just misfired. Deciding to go in the direction from where the bullet was fired, Hunter sprinted toward the east.

After running for a few minutes, Hunter saw the gas station he was heading toward in the first place. There were common infected surrounding it, and all the doors and windows were boarded up. The loud sounds of gun firing and screaming were piercing to Hunter's ears. The place was a mess of activity that was hard to ignore.

It was a standoff. Now it made more sense about the random common he picked off early. They were mislead from all this fuss. It seemed like these survivors would not last long. Not with this many infected commons around.

It looked like Hunter would not be able to get food from this particular place. He didn't know if he should stick around for the end. If the survivors won, they could come after him, but if they didn't, the supplies they would have could be a big help.

That depended if they had any at all.

Frustrated, Hunter decided to take matters into his own hands and not wait around. He didn't know how much time passed, and soon his human girl would wake up. Leaping high into the back of the gas station, where the least common infected were, he began looking for an entrance.

It was hard not to let loose a scream when he leap. It was instinctual to cry out as he jumped, but he couldn't let the survivors know about him. They couldn't know that a special infected was near; their guard would rise if they did and he couldn't have that.

Spotting two loose boards over the washroom window, Hunter decided to go with that. Jumping up and grabbing the bottom board, he used his legs against the building to pull it off. After hearing it snap, he grabbed onto the second one before losing his balance. Holding the broken board in his other hand, he dropped it to the side and began working on the second. Getting that off too, Hunter began his crawl into the bathroom.

The place stank horribly, but plumbing hasn't worked since the infection took over so it wasn't like the odor was unexpected. Landing on his feet, Hunter slowly positioned his ear against the door, hearing for anything close. The gun sounds and fighting sounded muffled, so it was a safe bet that the survivors were still in the front of the building where the most infected were.

As slowly and carefully as he could muster, Hunter gripped the doorknob and opened it. Pushing the door open gently so he wouldn't cause any attention, Hunter peeked into the room. It was a short hallway with a broken in closet across from him. Peering down the hallway, Hunter saw rows of knocked over shelves. They were all pushed in random directions, which meant that the survivors had not had time to organize their little standoff.

Dropping on all fours and leaning as low to the floor as he can, Hunter began sneaking over to the dropped and scattered food. There were bent cans and random items that he could not identify close by, but he realized his problem when he grabbed two cans and wondered how he was going to get it to his human.

He had forgot the bag at home. Tending the fireplace had caused him to forget to grab the bag by the door.

Quickly searching for another source of transporting the food, Hunter saw a dirty backpack near the broken freezers. Crawling as quickly over to it and emptying it of its contents, Hunter went back to the food. He began grabbing the cans and hastily throwing them into the bag.

He didn't notice that the gun firing had stopped.

He did notice the shotgun pushed against the side of his head.

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You may want to read the first chapter again, I rewrote a few parts.

Thank you for reading and please review!

Summer M


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